


A Goddess Reborn

by CavannaRose



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 19:17:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7186793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavannaRose/pseuds/CavannaRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amphitrite was the living embodiment of the sea, wife of Poseidon, but time passed, and she, like so many others, was forgotten in all but myths... and one modern girl saddled with an unwieldy name... And perhaps something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The sun was shining through the cheerful shop window, turning the small space into a veritable sauna. The young Asian-looking woman, with her inexplicably curly ebony hair, was leaning back on a stool behind the counter, slowly fanning herself up with a crumpled flier. A lone bead of sweat trailed along her collar bone, following the line of her demurely cut bikini top until the absorbent material claimed it. Huffing in irritation, she turned wide black eyes to the clock ticking away morosely above the door. Not a soul had darkened the step in over an hour, and Amy, as her father affectionately called her, was hot and bored. Her skin practically itched with its desire to bask in the waves once more.  
  
Her gaze flickered to the surfboard propped up in the corner, fingers curling in anticipation. She could almost taste the salt spray of the ocean on her tongue. Ten more minutes. Ten minutes and she could finally be free of the kitschy prison her mother had condemned her to for the afternoon. Just because it was her parent's dream to sell odd homemade souvenirs to the tourists that constantly ebbed and flowed in the coastal city, didn't mean she shared that delusion. On the contrary, she'd rather be out on the beach with the rest of the rabble, baking in the sun and soaking up salt water like it was oxygen. She counted the thirty whole dollars in the cash register again, and then made an executive decision. It's not like her parents would know if she cut out early.  
  
In this day and age, it was unusual for a young woman to still be at the beck and call of her parental figures, but Amphitrite Chan-Papageorgiou had little ambition outside of spending all her waking hours on the ocean. With no drive to pursue her education after graduating from high school, she had bowed only to the pressure to assist in the little tourist trap, as it gave her enough free time to chase her real passion. She wasn't a competitor, as her mother would likely die of an apoplexy should their precious Amy enter against all those half-dressed men, but her fire for the sport was just as strong. She knew that she could surf the rest of them right into the dunes, but filial obedience was a refrain echoed from one end of her childhood home to the other, so she followed her dreams solely for personal pleasure.  
  
At five minutes to five, Amy shouldered her board and locked up the shop, it was barely cutting out early at this point, even her strict mother couldn't come down on her that hard for this one. Smiling brightly in anticipation, she bounded down the boardwalks, flipflops slapping a sharp staccato across the weathered boards. By the time her feet hit sand, she'd shed the sarong wrap from her waist, and the offending footwear was bundled unceremoniously within it. Absently the girl discarded the pile in a small clearing amidst the sunbathers and day-trippers.  
  
Finally, the first cool wash of water was lapping at her ankles, and a sigh of joy escaped her trembling lips. Though she had been accused of melodrama countless times before, she never truly felt alive unless she was at least waist deep in the ocean. It was like part of it was constantly calling out to her, an itch beneath her skin not unlike the craving of a drug addict. When the seas were stormy, or she was fighting with one or the other of her overbearing parentals, and she couldn't make it to the beach, it felt like she was drowning on dry land.  
  
Amy paddled her board out into the quiet waves along the beach. There wasn't anything worth surfing this close to shore, what she needed was a few clicks out, there was a reef-break that would be forming perfect, hollow A-frames with the speed of the current off-shore wind. She always knew where and how fast the breeze was blowing, and she could always pinpoint where the perfect wave would form. A friend had once asked her how she knew, but it was less knowledge and education and more just this feeling inside her. Instinct or something like that.  
  
Finally she made it, catching the swell just as it built up into an impressive grinder. Any had a moment of doubt, perhaps this time her gut had led her wrong, she rarely tackled a beast this big, at least not fresh out on the water for the day. Pushing doubts aside, she threaded her way through the peak, standing just as she hit the tube, a smile breaking across her face as she flew across the hollow, wind and foam in her hair. It was the biggest wave she'd ever ridden and the high of it swept her away faster than a riptide.  
  
She'd closed her eyes, a major surfing no-no, but the feelings had been overwhelming. Because of this, Amy didn't notice as the wave began to crumble early. Meteorologically it made no sense for the wave to decay so fast, but not everything in this world is governed by nature. Her eyes flew open just as the whitewater pulled her board from beneath her feet, plunging the woman into the watery depths. Once below the surface, tides tugged at her body like a thousand grasping hands, dragging her further and further under. She was holding her breath, lungs screaming for air as she clawed towards the surface, but to no avail.  
  
For the first time in her entire life, the sea had betrayed her. Spots formed in front of Amy's eyes, and even though she knew there was no air to be had, her mouth opened to breath... and she did. Shock rocketed through the young woman's body as the water that should have killed her filled her lungs, stroking along them as oxygen-rich as if she were strapped to a diving tank. Bare feet touched down on the bottom of the ocean, sliding and then catching amidst the rocks and sand. She'd barely caught her bearings when a sensation like lightning ran down her spine, and a sensation more akin to homecoming than anything else warmed her from the top to bottom.  
  
Though she couldn't see it, her black eyes glowed with an unearthly fire for a moment, and then she was swimming with strong, firm strokes for the surface. She had gone under a spoiled, useless surfer bum, but what breached the surface in a pristine spin before diving back under was a goddess.


	2. Chapter 2

Amphitrite was in her element. In the dawn chill she had made her way down to the beach to ride some early morning waves. Her bare toes clung to the fibreglass board, eyes closed in exultation as she flew across the trough of the wave. Later she might have to worry about things like family, the store, and these weird, dream-like flashes she kept getting, but for now there was just her and the surf. For nearly an hour she was almost alone, save the odd hippie taking an early morning jog across the beach.

Eventually, as it always did, the tide started flowing out, and the tourists started flocking in. With a sigh, she paddled back in, taking her board over to the surf shop for storage. All the locals knew each other, did their best to accommodate each other when they could in and around the tourists. Waving to big Jim she ducked into his staff room to peel off her wetsuit and shimmy into a sundress she'd left hanging there and grabbed her purse.

If she avoided the highway she should still be able to make it to the shop and open it on time. Her bike was parked just at the edge of the beach, and she dodged between the various sunburnt tourists with expert ease. As harried as it might seem, Amy wouldn't trade her life for anything else out there... or so she thought anyway. Lately there had been a secondary call in the back of her head. Something wordless, but no less compelling. She wasn't sure quite what it was, only that it was infusing her with a sense of jumpy restlessness. Sighing, she crammed her purse into the side pouch of her bike and grabbed her helmet.

The jangling of her nerves intensified on the ride over to her parent's shop,as if whatever had caused it was slowly closing the distance between itself and her. Despite both her parents being superstitious in nature, she just wasn't prone to flights of fancy. Her focus always was, always had been, out there on the beach. Other than the sun and the surf, she didn't have much in the way of dreams, not until lately. Just last night she'd woken from another restless sleep, an image of majestic marble columns in her head, and the feel of some old fashioned linen tunic on her skin. Whatever that was about, she crushed it far down, deeper within her. She had no interest. She wasn't curious, and she surely didn't care what it might have meant.

Instead Amy settled her bike into it's spot behind the store, and opened up for the day. Setting out the tacky trinkets that Mama and Papa insisted on peddling to the tourists who left the big old airport and came strolling along the boardwalk. At least she could smell the ocean from here, underneath the stink of the city and traffic. Her Papa joked that the lingering scent of saltwater came from her, that she spent so much time there she just smelled like the ocean. Still, the dark-haired girl leaned against the counter, looking out over the hordes of humanity with a sigh. Six more hours until she could hit the beach again.


End file.
